The Boy with Two Wands
by LeftToBurn
Summary: When Voldemort tried to kill Harry, he didn't leave just a scar - he also left his "wand." How does Harry deal with this unusual gift? And what will he do when Voldemort wants it back? IN PROGRESS.
1. Hut on the Rock

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

**There is no sex in this fanfic. This is inspired by DoubleDickDude from Reddit. Hope you enjoy.**

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The raging storm caused the waves to churn around the small hut-on-the-rock, and the wind threatened to knock the shabby shelter over.

Inside the hut, a storm of another kind was raging.

Harry watched in amazement as Hagrid scribbled a note and attached it to the owl.

Ashen-faced, but still looking very angry, Uncle Vernon moved into the firelight.

"_He's not going_," he said nastily. "We swore when we took him in that we'd put a stop to that rubbish. We couldn't do anything about his – _problem _– but we swore we'd stamp it out of him. Wizard indeed!"

"You _knew_?" said Harry. "You _knew _I'm a – a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia. "_Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? I was the only one who saw her for what she was – a freak! And then she met that Potter boy at that – that _school_ and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just as strange, just as – as – _abnormal_ and whenever we changed your _diapers_ we were reminded of it!"

"Changed my diapers?" asked Harry slowly.

From his corner, where he had been shivering in fear, Dudley snickered.

But all the adults had gone very white. Harry looked up at Hagrid, who looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh – but someone's gotta – yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

Harry suddenly felt very awkward.

"Are – are you about to give me a sex talk?" he asked.

Hagrid threw a dirty look at the Dursleys, and Harry's stomach dropped.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh –" Hagrid began, looking very uncomfortable. "You were born wi' one 'wand' like any other baby boy, but then a person called – but it's incredible yeh don't know the name, everyone in our world knows – "

"Who?"

Hagrid gulped, but no sound came out.

"What?"

"_Voldemort_." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. And he – he went…bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. And he – he came ter yer house an' – an' – "

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad – anyway – You-Know-Who killed yer parents, see, an' then he tried to kill you too. But he failed and – well, he's gone, but now you have that scar -," he pointed at Harry's forehead, "- and two _penises_."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind.

"You mean…everyone knows? About my – my – "

Hagrid looked at him with sad eyes. "After yer parents – well, people had to check you were all right, see? That you weren't hurt anywhere. An' – an' word got out…"

"Well that's not so bad," said Harry cheerfully, squaring his shoulders. "I already knew that having two dicks made me different. Muggle schools teach sex education, you see? And when they showed pictures, the teacher wouldn't believe that I had two, so I pulled my pants down and showed everyone."

Aunt Petunia screamed furiously. "You SEE? He's a little _freak_! Just like his mother!"

"You mean my mother had two dicks too?" asked Harry.

Aunt Petunia turned bright red. "TAKE HIM AWAY!"

Harry looked back at Hagrid, and saw that the large man was positively beaming at him.

"That's the spirit!" he said. He clapped Harry on the back, nearly knocking him over. "Harry Potter – you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

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**Please review. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Arriving at Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am not making profit off of Rowling's amazing work.**

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Harry never imagined that anything as wondrous as Platform 9¾ could exist. And now he was off – off to be a wizard!

A pair of redheaded twins helped haul Harry's trunk into the train's compartment.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you - ?"

"He _is_," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"_Double-Dick Harry_," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"_Coming_, Mom."

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him.

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is? _Double-Dick Harry!_"

Their mother snapped at them. "Don't call him that! His name is _Harry Potter_. The poor dear…no wonder he was alone. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."

Harry heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, please can I go on the train? Do you think he'll let me see his…his…"

"_Ginny_! Mind your manners! And the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in the zoo!"

Harry sat back and grinned. Hagrid was right; he really _was_ famous!

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Everyone on the Hogwarts Express wanted to see Harry's unusual gifts. Luckily, even as an eleven-year-old, Harry was quite comfortable in his own skin and was a budding exhibitionist. He got along quite splendidly with everyone - except for a boy named Draco Malfoy, who Harry thought was a spoiled brat.

But even Draco couldn't keep his eyes off of Harry when he pulled down his pants.

When the Sorting Hat placed him in Gryffindor, the redheaded twins put him on their shoulders and carried him around the table, singing:

_We got Double-Dick Harry,  
__He may have a wand too many,  
__But we all truly adore,  
__When his pants drop to the floor,  
__And all the girls swoon at his glory!_

Harry absolutely loved it. He already felt at home. After stuffing himself with the feast set before him, he started feeling warm and sleepy. He looked up at the High Table again. One of the professors, who was wearing an absurd turban, was talking to another teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past the turban straight into Harry's eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead. At the same time, he felt a strange sensation in his pants.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped one hand to his head, and the other to his crotch.

"What is it?" asked Ron Weasley, one of the friends he had made on the train.

"N-nothing."

The feeling had gone as quickly as it had come.

"Who's that teacher? The scary one with black hair?" he asked an older Gryffindor.

"That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's wants to teach Defense Against Dark Arts. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.

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**Thanks for reading!**


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